I was typing in my living room, wondering what I could write about mental toughness–I had heard that this was a good thing for bloggers to write about–when my house began to shake. I recognized it immediately: EMP! The electromagnetic pulse device I had been attacked with shorted out my computer. Someone began turning my doorknob. I did a double backflip and got one hand on my iPad, hoping it would still work so I could finish the blog post. A boot crashed down on my fingers and I looked up into the face of Jack Bauer, who I had followed with glee both waxing and waning over eight seasons of 24. He was holding a flashlight under his chin to look extra-menacing, although it wasn’t necessary.
Josh: “Jack! I thought you were in Africa!”
Jack: He drew apart the blinds with two fingers. “That’s what I wanted you to think. This is the longest day of my life. Yours too.”
Josh: “It’s night time. Well, I’m glad you’re here, I think. Why are you here?”
Jack: He kicks me in the ribs. It hurts. “Mr. Librarian, I’m here to interview you. I’ve been informed that you have information that is vital to…do you have a pen? A ballpoint?”
Josh: gasping. “Why did you kick me?”
Jack: “Once you get started, it’s a hard habit to break. I kick most people. How about that pen?”
Josh: Pointing with one broken finger. “It’s in that drawer…by the gingerbread house.”
Jack: “Thank you.” He hurries over, kneels down, and holds the pen up to my eye. “You’ll be insane before I’m done.”
Josh: “What? Wait! Done with what? I thought this was an interview?”
Jack: Unclicking the pen. “Right…do you have a towel? I need to…wash up.”
Josh: “Yes, in the hall closet. Why?”
Jack: His voice reaches me from the hall. “You’ve read my file. Y0u know what I’m capable of.”
Josh: “Wait, I–”
Jack: Returning to the floor beside me. “The only thing I’m sorry about is that this country needs men like me. I don’t regret a thing. Open your mouth please.”
Josh: “Why? Why should I trust you? And if you want to be sorry about something, be sorry about seasons 4 and 6.”
Jack: “With all due respect, sir…ask around.”
Josh: “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself in to.”
Jack: “Why don’t you explain it to me? You’ve got five seconds.” starts twisting the towel around his hand. “You may not think I can get this towel into your stomach, but I can, and when it comes out…”
Josh: “I’m not scared of you.”
Jack: “Huh. You’re a good liar, but I’ve seen better. Do you have a cheese knife?”
Josh: I actually did. In fact I had reviewed it not long before. “It’s in the kitchen. By the refrigerator.”
Jack: He sets the flashlight on the ground, leaves, then reenters the room. For some reason he has taken our refrigerator magnets off and is juggling them while holding the cheese knife in his mouth. I see a glimpse of “Drink that milk!” on one of them magnets and wonder again where we got it. “I won’t lie, this is going to…hey, is that Twilight?”
Josh: “NO! NO! LET ME GO! NOT YOU TOO!” I buck and thrash like a fat show pony gone mad, but to no avail.
He goes to the bookshelves, takes Twilight down, and sits on the floor, cross-legged. He puts down the Cheese Knife next to him. I lunge, grab it, swipe at him, remember that it only cuts cheese, and now I’m in real trouble, unless…
He gets to his feet and whirls around, slips on Mr. Potato Head’s glasses, and crashes into the lamp. He spins around so many times that the cord binds his ankles. I run over and tie a granny knot in the cord and run away into the kitchen. It’s not enough and he is quickly loose. I wait for him.
Jack: “Guess I’ll be leaving!” I hear the sound of footsteps, but he’s obviously walking in place, not going anywhere.I wait like this for a long time. In fact, he’s still in there and I’m not sure what to do. Every once in a while he takes the book , kisses the covers, and whispers…”Oh Eduardo!” Then he laughs. When I figure out what I’m going to do I will write another post.